


I Want You to Know

by Snowfilly1



Series: Rare Omens Prompt Fills [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale / Crowley mentioned, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Friendship, Gen, Minor Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Weddings, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowfilly1/pseuds/Snowfilly1
Summary: Four post canon snapshots of the friendship between Aziraphale and Madame Tracey - talking about bookshops, wings, life and demons.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Series: Rare Omens Prompt Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146065
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17
Collections: Rare Omens





	I Want You to Know

**Author's Note:**

> Four tiny ficlets - they're in a chronological order but they're separate 'stories'
> 
> Title is lifted from Queen's 'You're My Best Friend' which also inspired some of Aziraphale's thoughts in this. 
> 
> No warnings, it's all soft and happy.

Tracey glances around the bookshop and smiles approvingly. 'Lots of nice stuff here, Aziraphale. Oooh, that name still sounds funny to pronounce. How'd I do with it?'

'Very well actually, my dear. Can I get you a tea or something?'

'Of course, a tea would be lovely. I brought us some cake. I'm not much of one for cooking but I stopped and brought some after the train ride, I needed some and then I thought it'd be best to share with you.'

She hangs her coat on the rack, where its bright colours obscure everything else, and follows Aziraphale into the little kitchen that's never seen another guest aside from Crowley. 

'How long have you lived here?' Tracey asks, looking at a few stray books that have escaped onto the dresser. 

'Couple of hundred years,' Aziraphale replies and then pauses, wondering if he's ever told a human what he is so plainly. 

'Do you have to pretend to be our own son every so many years? And wouldn't the inheritance tax get a bit steep if you kept doing that?'

He passes her a mug, takes some plates out. 'That's Crowley's line, not mine. He likes disguises.'

They spend the next hour or so chatting. Laughing. And when Aziraphale offers to bring his wings out to confirm everything he's said, she looks at him and says 'no, I don't think you really want to do that, do you?' and they go back to chatting about Shakespeare ('Was he really such a flirt?' 'Yes, he was,') and making more tea. 

***

'Thank you so much for all your help. I don't know what I would have done without you helping. I know me and Mr. S haven't been here nearly as long as you've been in your shop, but we still have an awful lot of things to move.'

Aziraphale glanced round the room to get his bearings. There were a few seance and spirit related things that were bothering him, not quite Holy or Infernal, but not quite human either. Tracey would have to pack those. 

'It's the least we can do, after you drove me all the way to Tadfield and everything.'

'Oh, you don't need to worry about that, love. Anyway, it's been my pleasure helping you out with all the books and everything. It's so nice to have someone to talk to who understands these sorts of things.'

They worked in near silence for an hour, Aziraphale suggesting to the glass ornaments that they wouldn't break, and that the stuffed animals not get too squashed. It was ...comfortable to be working alongside a human again. 

'I think we're done in here,' he said finally. 'What about upstairs? Crowley will be round later with the Bentley so I can take the boxes out, but you don't want him here when you're packing. He gets distracted so easily.'

Tracey smiled at him. 'Can I ask you something?'

'Um...Of course?'

'Oh, it's fine if you don't want to tell me, of course. I just wondered...'

He'd told Tracey more about Crowley, more about their relationship than he'd ever told anyone else. Ever imagined telling anyone, comes to that. He couldn't quite imagine what she'd baulk at asking. 

'Is it true you crashed his Bentley once and that's why you...'

Aziraphale was still cursing Crowley and his story telling when the demon arrived with a bunch of flowers for Tracey, who was almost sobbing with laughter. 

***

'So, you can fly? You and Crowley?'

'He's better than me. Faster.'

'Fsssh, that's nothing to do with anything. I bet you can fly brilliantly. Anyway, what's it like? Do you get cold? What happens if it rains?'

Aziraphale answers her as best as he can. Tells her some of their favourite memories of flying, and after that, he brings his wings out and moves them in slow sweeps, while Tracey rests her hands on the bones of them and feels the movement. 

'Oooh, your feathers are so soft! Does that tickle?'

'No, that's fine. They itch when I moult though.'

He feels so safe, so content, standing alongside a friend who wants to understand all of him. And later, when they're drinking wine and laughing and arguing about Arthur's flying in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, he admits to himself that he's happy. 

***

'Aziraphale, stop fussing at it!'

Aziraphale dropped his hand, wondering if he looked as abashed as he felt. 'Are you sure it's straight?'

'Perfectly. Do you want me to get another mirror so you can see?' Tracey belied her words with a quick tug on his buttonhole; dragged her fingers across his sleeves. 'You look stunning.'

'No, no, I believe you.'

Tracey stretched up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. 'Now come on, it's bad form to be late to your own wedding. The kids will be running riot if you make them wait for much longer.'

'Anathema will glare them into silence, if that's the case.'

'She's more likely to be scoring the rioting out of ten, if I know her. C'mon.'

He swallowed hard. Paused. 'Tracey ...'

'What? Don't you dare say you're nervous. Or that you're worried Crowley might be having second thoughts,' but she squeezed his hand regardless. 

'I was going to say...I'm glad I met you. Glad you're my friend.'

'In that case, the feeling is entirely mutual, but there's some champagne with my name on it and your poor demon will be waiting at the whatever isn't an alter, so let's save the sappy stuff for later, alright?'

Tracey led him towards the waiting crowd.


End file.
